Squib Wizard: To Comfort Gehenna
by Ozma
Summary: An out-take from Squib Wizard. Filch attempts to cheer up an injured first year Slytherin girl while they are both in the hospital wing.


Squib Wizard: To Comfort Gehenna   
a Harry Potter fan-fic  
(an out-take from "Squib Wizard")  
by Ozma  
Everything really belongs to J.K. Rowling  
  
  
*******  
  
Author's Note: This ficlet will probably only make sense if you've   
already read "Squib Wizard." Or at least the first chapter of "Squib   
Wizard", since these events happen between the first and second   
chapters.  
  
*******  
  
  
  
"Argus, would you talk to Gehenna Morgan for a little while? Try   
to cheer the poor child up a bit?"  
  
I gave Poppy Pomfrey an incredulous stare. "W-What? Me...? No! I   
can't..."  
  
Folding her arms, the medi-witch looked at me in exasperation.   
  
"Of course you can. Please do try. She's been fretting about   
Severus's hands."  
  
"Haven't you told her that he's going to be all right?" I asked.  
  
"Yes," Poppy said. "And, for that matter, so has Severus. He came   
in this morning to check on her before he went to the Slytherin-  
Ravenclaw match."   
  
Her voice softened. "He spoke to her, but the child barely took   
her eyes off his bandages. She's blaming herself for his injuries."  
  
She sighed. "`The Professor needs his hands!' That's what Gehenna   
said to me, after he'd left."  
  
*******  
  
Less than a fortnight earlier, Neville Longbottom, Ginny Weasley   
and I had discovered a massive magic eating monstrous vine-creature   
growing beneath the dirt floor of a dungeon storeroom.   
  
Drawn to consume magical beings and magic users, the vines   
actively sought prey, and left painful, slow-healing burns on any witch   
or wizard that they touched. The Professors had killed the thing, after   
a battle that had lasted several hours and had left most of the Castle's   
dungeons in a shambles.   
  
Though the monster's brain had been destroyed pieces of the vine   
remained, still twitching, hidden in cracks and crevices throughout the   
dungeons.   
  
Last night, little Gehenna had nearly been strangled by a wire-  
thin piece of vine-creeper. She had been helping to clean the devastated   
corridor outside Professor Snape's classroom.   
  
Choking, unable to scream for help, Gehenna would have died.   
Fortunately, Pansy Parkinson and Gehenna's sister Lilith, had seen the   
attack. Their screams had brought Severus to Gehenna's rescue.  
  
The Professor had ripped the vine off the child's throat with his   
bare hands. Then, ignoring his own burns, he'd carried the barely   
conscious little girl to Poppy.   
  
The continuing danger to his beloved Slytherins had Severus more   
distraught that I'd ever seen him before.  
  
*******  
  
"Foolish child!" I muttered. "How can she think that Severus's   
burns are her fault? She didn't ask the vine to wrap itself around her   
neck, did she?"  
  
"That's the spirit, Argus," Poppy said, briskly. "Since you seldom   
make an attempt to be comforting, perhaps the shock value alone will be   
enough to get Gehenna's attention."  
  
I could see Poppy's point. Slytherins, even ones as small and   
quiet as Gehenna, do require careful handling. Sometimes a sneak attack   
is the only way to console a troubled serpent.  
  
"All right," I sighed. "I'll do my best."  
  
"No one could expect more of you than that," Poppy smiled. "And it   
is an excellent way to get you to stop feeling sorry for yourself," she   
added.  
  
I sputtered indignantly.  
  
"I need to mix some more ointment for you," she said. "It will   
take me a little while. Go into the front ward and have a nice chat with   
Gehenna."  
  
*******  
  
A few moments later, I was standing uncomfortably by Gehenna   
Morgan's bed. The small mousy Slytherin first year looked pale and   
feverish. Drowsy with pain-killing potions, she blinked up at me with   
large, sad eyes.  
  
"Hello, Mr. Filch," Gehenna said, sleepily. Her voice was hoarse.   
It hurt her to talk, but pressing a hand to her bandaged throat seemed   
to help.  
  
"You're missing the match, too," she observed. "Slytherin against   
Ravenclaw. The Professor went to watch. I hope that Draco will catch the   
Snitch."  
  
"I hope so too," I said, honestly. The poor, jumpy Slytherins   
could certainly do with a victory.  
  
There was a long silence. Scolding some sense into an injured   
child takes effort, even for an old curmudgeon like me. Scowling, I was   
trying to work out what I wanted to say, when Gehenna asked,  
  
"Are you feeling better?"  
  
"Yes," I replied, gruffly.  
  
Thinking about the last time that Gehenna had seen me, several   
hours before she'd been attacked by the vine, made me cringe with   
embarrassment.  
  
Severus wanted to ward his office against entry via my Doors. He'd   
asked me to test the strength of his spells. I'd been doing that when   
several of his Slytherins, Gehenna among them, had discovered me in his   
office, behind a door that had been locked.   
  
My Doors were a secret. Very few people could know the real reason   
why I was trespassing. Humiliating as it was, I had let it appear as if   
I'd been trying to use Severus's cleaning supplies without his   
permission.   
  
While Severus was confronting me over my supposed offense, I had   
managed to back into a very nasty protective curse near his shelves. A   
number of long, sharp porcupine quills had lodged in my back and   
shoulders. Most of them had had hit my backside.  
  
Like Gehenna, I had spent the night in the hospital wing. It would   
be several days before I'd be able to sit down comfortably or sleep on   
my back.   
  
Poppy's remark about me feeling sorry for myself had stung. I knew   
that my wounds were nowhere near as serious as the poor child's burned   
throat. The physical discomfort bothered me less than the shame of being   
considered a thief.  
  
The child was studying me with sympathy. Yesterday, she and the   
other Slytherins had thought I'd deserved what I'd gotten. To a fair   
number of Slytherins, getting caught is the worst crime of all. But now,   
I must have looked as sore and ashamed as I felt, and Gehenna wasn't the   
sort to gloat.  
  
"I'm glad that you're feeling better," she murmured. "Yesterday,   
you yelled so loudly that the Gryffindors thought you were being   
murdered. Lil and I were afraid too. But Pansy and Millicent told us not   
to worry. Professor Snape would never do anything permanent to you."  
  
"You would yell pretty loudly too, Missy, if the same thing ever   
happened to you..." I grumbled.  
  
"I'd never go into the Professor's office without his permission.   
And I know the countercurses, in case he ever sends me in there," the   
child pointed out.   
  
Then Gehenna remembered that knowing Snape's countercurses   
wouldn't have done me any good whatsoever. She looked chagrined.  
  
I didn't mind what she'd said. She'd given me the opening I   
needed.  
  
"Professor Snape makes sure that you Slytherins know his   
countercurses. Why do you think he does that?" I asked her.  
  
"He trusts us," Gehenna murmured.  
  
"Yes," I agreed, "and he wants to keep you safe. I've known   
Professor Snape since he was your age. He's always taken his obligations   
and responsibilities as seriously as the best of you serpents tend to   
do. He'd risk his life to protect any student at this school. You know   
that don't you?"  
  
She nodded. Of course I did not have to explain the proud and   
subtle intricacies of Slytherin honor to one of Salazar's chosen.  
  
"Well, it goes even deeper than honor for him where the children   
of his House are concerned," I said. "Seeing any of you hurt tears him   
up inside."  
  
"As completely UnSlytherin as it would be for him to admit it..."   
I couldn't help adding.  
  
Gehenna studied me, looking grave. She didn't dispute the truth of   
what I'd said. She didn't say anything.  
  
I sighed, wondering if I was getting through to her at all.  
  
Gehenna isn't one of the children that I know well. She's a rule-  
abiding child who has never had a single detention. What little I do   
know about her I've learned from her sister.   
  
Lilith Morgan's overwhelming ambition is to write plays. She and   
her closest friend, Mallory Crippen, also a Slytherin second year,   
receive frequent detentions because they often talk and pass notes in   
class.  
  
Ambition, that most famous of Slytherin traits, comes in many   
forms. From a stream of Lilith-and-Mallory chatter, I had plucked the   
tidbit that Gehenna wanted, more than anything, to be an expert brewer   
of potions. So I understood what Gehenna meant when she held her small,   
pale hands out in front of her.  
  
"But, his poor hands...!" she said sadly. "It was too much of a   
risk."  
  
"The Professor would tell you that it was a calculated risk. Using   
`Incendio' on a vine wrapped around your throat... that would have been   
too much of a risk. The slightest miscalculation would have killed you.   
He had less than a second to decide what to do," I said.   
  
"Professor Snape trusted that Madam Pomfrey would be able to heal   
his hands. But not even Madam Pomfrey can raise the dead. If you had   
died, then he never would have forgiven himself. Ever. Do you   
understand, Gehenna?"  
  
To my relief the girl nodded. Her hands were relaxed, resting on   
her coverlet.  
  
"Good," I said, gruffly. "It's all right, then."  
  
Gehenna was studying me again.   
  
"Mr. Filch?" She asked wistfully, around a sleepy yawn, "if you   
had gone to the Quidditch match today, would you have sat with the   
Gryffindors?"  
  
"I would have had trouble sitting with anyone," I said ruefully.  
  
"No," I added, after a moment, when I finally realized what the   
child was really asking me. "The Gryffindors never seem to lack for   
supporters, do they? I would have stayed with you Slytherins."  
  
Gehenna smiled.  
  
"Some of the others wonder why you always like to cheer for us at   
Quidditch. I've heard a few theories. One guess is that you used to be a   
Slytherin," she told me, drowsily.  
  
"Hmm. I'd imagine that's enough to utterly horrify a number of   
you," I said in a very dry voice.  
  
"There are those who say that you must do it out of loyalty to   
Professor Snape. Or because you lost a bet with someone years and years   
ago. Or because you'd rather support us than any team with Fred and   
George Weasley on it," Gehenna said.   
  
"Of course, that doesn't explain why you didn't choose to support   
Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff..." she added.  
  
"Why do you suppose that I cheer for Slytherin?" I asked, a little   
distractedly. My feet ached from standing. Borrowing a pillow from an   
empty bed to use as a cushion, I lowered myself gingerly into a chair.  
  
"I think that you probably just like to keep all of us wondering,"   
she murmured, closing her eyes.   
  
"It's really almost Slytherin of you."  
  
"Coming from you, child, I'll consider that a compliment," I said.   
"As long as you promise that you'll never say such a thing about me in   
front of your Professor. He wouldn't be amused."   
  
"I won't," Gehenna promised.  
  
She fell asleep, with a smile on her face.   
  
I stayed beside her until Poppy returned.  
  
  
  
THE END  
  
  
  
  
  
Another Author's Note:  
  
  
The next chapter of "Squib Caretaker" is still being worked on. While   
going through some old computer files, I found this scene that was   
originally supposed to be part of "Squib Wizard." I expanded it a bit...   
hopefully it stands up okay as a ficlet.  
  
Some of this was inspired by the Quidditch scene in the movie, where   
Filch is shown enthusiastically cheering for the Slytherins. I began to   
wonder why he would do that. Filch never did really answer Gehenna's   
question. I think maybe Gehenna is right; he just wants to make 'em   
wonder. 


End file.
